


Where Do We Begin?

by IncorrectEcho



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Gen, Innuendo, Post-War, Trauma, silver snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26215489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncorrectEcho/pseuds/IncorrectEcho
Summary: Cry no moreFeeling all alone and insecureYou have been going through these stages.Now it’s time to turn the pagesWe’re gonna stand in line and not give upBut walk that roadThat everybody goesThrough lights and shadowsAfter Manuela’s latest failed romantic escapade, she returns to Garreg Mach to ask Seteth for her old job. Seteth, however, has no job opening as a teacher for her, but as a nanny for the maturing Flayn. Seteth quickly discovers he and the impulsive Manuela have wildly different views on raising her after Flayn and Manuela go on a detective adventure. In the aftermath, Seteth and Manuela discover that the other is a loving person with a valuable view on what it means to live in a broken world.
Relationships: Jeritza von Hrym/My Unit | Byleth, Manuela & Flayn, Manuela Casagranda/Seteth
Kudos: 9
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	Where Do We Begin?

“Oh, you mean the half-loop stitch on china silk?” Manuela asked the latest bride-to-be in Enbarr’s very first bridal shop. “Excellent choice, why don’t you try it on? It just came in, so you’re pretty much the first to wear it. So, who’s the lucky guy?”  
Before the bride could answer, Manuela was called to the back of the store by her partner.  
“Hey, I was just busy with a customer, but if you want me to be busier with you, then…” Manuela said as she immediately unbuttoned her blouse.  
“Actually—” the ex-knight kissed Manuela’s collarbone— “I think you can go home early today.”  
“Well then, just let me handle the last customer and then I’ll head off.” He kissed her cheek next.  
“Don’t bother, I’ll handle her.”  
“See you tonight!” Manuela blew a kiss and headed out of the back door.

Manuela put her coat back on and walked through the streets of Enbarr. She liked doing so. Although the war hadn’t left the streets yet, neither has hope and hope always won. It’s why Manuela and her boyfriend decided to open a bridal shop. To make sure that even in the cinders of the Flame Emperor, the cinders of love and passion would always reign more. No, Enbarr wasn’t perfect and who knows of it would’ve been better if Edelgard won that war all those years ago, but at least the fighting was over. The battlefield of Enbarr retreated back to the underworld, the streets quiet enough to build up tension again. 

She looked at St. Cichol’s Church. People say it is where Saint Cichol himself vowed to his wife to protect her and was wedded to her there later, so it was the ultimate spot to get married for many Adrestians and non-Adrestians alike. She sighed. Maybe one day, her boyfriend would ask her too.  
She went inside. The air was serene, divine even. Children were playing on the stairs. She knew better than to see this scene as anything but idyllic. This was what survival looked like in Enbarr, or at least how it looked like in plain sight. Singing, theatre. Anything to get noticed by a noble with the key to a better life.

Manuela reached for her wallet to give these kids their next meal. “Drats.”  
She played head-shoulders-knee-and-toe with her coat. The only choreography she regularly practiced and even that one she messes up. “Must’ve left my gold at the bridal.” She groaned and slapped her temple. She smiled and nodded at the children. “May Cethleann be merciful.” she said, heading off to pick up her belongings.

“Hey hey hey I forgot my-“ Manuela walked into the store casually, dropping the key on the table.  
She saw her boyfriend, her knight, in the hands of another woman. Well, more like in the mouth of another woman. The one she just helped picking out a dress. Manuela gracefully entered the scene.

“Boo, you whore.” She didn’t even bother to give the lady a taste of her emotions and instead simply made a raspberry sound.  
“For Cethleann’s sake Hahn, you said you sent your tramp home.” the woman blurted out, tongue barely separated from the knight.  
“Tramp? Do you know who you’re talking to?” Manuela huffed, seething with anger.  
“No.” the woman said curt.

Hahn stepped in. “Ladies, ladies, no need to fight. Manuela, I’m sorry you had to see us like this. We thought you were going to be as clueless as you were the last five months.” he said with a pathetic grin.

Manuela didn’t say anything. Escalating this situation was beneath her. She simply walked away, took the money in the register and ran away as fast as she could, cackling in a fit of rage and freedom.

“Here you go, my child.” she said when she returned to the church with a wad of cash. “Promise me you never love, my dear. People say it’s what keeps us going in life, but in reality it’s the big rock that us mortals are cursed to roll around.” she said, makeup flooding over her face like a dark spell’s residue.  
The kid nodded, terrified of the presence before them.

She entered the church, taking out her first drink of the day. Sitting in one of the church’s seats, she opened the bottle, looking around at the statues of handsome saints and basking in the colorful auras created by the combination of the fogging of her teary eyes and branded windows.  
A priest came by, shaking his head. Manuela furrowed her eyebrows “Oh I’m sure Cichol wouldn’t mind.” she grunted.

Where was she to go? She looked around. Sure, she got cash, but without a job or a place to stay, she couldn’t stay here long. One thing she knew, she had to leave Enbarr. Enbarr was not kind to women, homeless or homeless women. But where could she go? The light of the church made her eyes nearly close. The combination of the statues, the gold plating and the green and navy sapphires gave her an idea.

“Oh mercy be with me.” she prayed to the Saints, heading for the most cutthroat institute of Fódlan. She wasn’t looking for the onslaught of nobility headed towards her, but it was where her heart and talent were. Hopefully they were more manageable in this new lifetime. And yet, she feared the worst as she headed for the lion’s den, taking another swig of her drink.

*

The gates were ever the same. How many years has it been….Manuela cried, for she was old now.  
“Hey there...you have….something…” she cried, the tears swelling her eyes in one particularly ugly look for her.  
“I’m sorry ma’am, but I’m afraid I have nothing to report.” the gatekeeper replied curtly, though obviously struck by Manuela’s presence, in her own professional opinion.

Maybe it was a mistake for her to come back. The voice in her head still feels like accepting a position back at Garreg Mach would be five steps forward two steps back into her ever-fading light, but at least she would be comfortable here and...who was she kidding? The sogging pillars of the entrance hall were a fitting metaphor for the ancient institute that was Manuela Casagranda. She peeked into the dining hall, but the void didn’t stare back. A whole new generation of nobility that didn’t recognize her. Her limelight truly fading. As she walked in, some lights appeared. Fragments of a past, put together. That hair, she recognized it. 

She awkwardly waved at the lad before sitting down next to him.  
“Hey Cyril, how are ya? Doing fine I see. I’m really proud of ya.” she said, playfully poking her former frenemy with a smile so crooked it moved into her cheek.  
“I’m….I’m not Cyril.” the man replied nervously, moving his head back to his plate.  
“Right, right, right, you just.” Manuela cleared her throat, her eyes moving across every part of the dining hall. “Remind me of an old friend. Apologies.” She stood up and walked out of the dining hall into the courtyard.

No, Manuela’s glory days were over.

“Manuela please, you can’t expect them to…” she mumbled to herself. To what? To recognize her? To have them acknowledge the tether of her past lives that dangles her above being forgotten to the eyes of history? Manuela’s time was best spend writing a memoir, she thought, burying herself in past accomplishments, to let the ghost of Seiros’ past take her to the colorful parts of her life as she’s left behind as a black-and-white relic of ye olden times. Manuela Casagranda, they’d say, great in her first half, before progressively become weaker, stumbling towards a disastrous final act. Two-out-of-five stars.

The setting didn’t help. A return at Garreg Mach felt like a dream. A final glimpse at what was before spirits would drag her old, soggy body to the heavens forever. A final lap through the stream of time, making sure not to change the past.

*

She walked past the Officer’s Academy. A whole new line-up of teens were ready to take the new united Fódlan by storm. She scanned for some familiar faces, but couldn’t find any. Could she even take up the job so easily? Fódlan changed, with the archbishop’s influence being noticeable across the land. Even in Enbarr. Maybe especially in Enbarr, where anti-church rhetoric still coursed through the city’s alleys.  
Suddenly, a hand waved from the crowd, with a green-haired man next to her. Manuela waved back. It was nice to have fans. Maybe she did have a place in the Fódlan that the war left behind.

She took the stairs to the faculty floor. It hadn’t changed a lot. In her mind, she knows the amount of stairs hasn’t increased. Her feet however, feel a difference. She stepped foot in the hallway. The tears in her eyes accumulated in full-on bawling now as she took a stroll through her own stomping grounds. She took a peek in Hanneman’s office, but a brown-haired girl had taken his place, staring at a crest like he used to do. Manuela bowed in respect and turned around. “Rest in peace you molded shrimp.” she whispered, sending a quick prayer to the goddess.

It’s been five years since Rhea fell and five years more since the war started. And she doesn’t dare to count how long ago since she first stepped foot in the infirmary and yet, there she was once again.

She placed herself in the middle of her old office, her hands sensing the changes made. “I could settle in here. It’s a bit clean, but I’m sure I can rearrange things back into my system.” She shuffled some things around, before opening the drawer.  
“Medicine?” she asked herself. “That’s weird.” Her head tilted in confusion as she took out the bottles of alcohol out of her purse.  
“They should know the importance of a sterile work environment.” Rustling around some more, bending on her knees to reach the bottom drawer, she slowly made herself at home.

Footsteps approached from the hallway, alarmed by the sound of bottles clanging in the infirmary.  
“Halt. Stop what you’re doing! Stealing medicine from the infirmary, some scum you are.” a commanding voice said.  
Manuela turned around to look at the intruder, but she knew that voice all too well.

“Hello Seteth. Nice to see you too.” she said with a smile and a side-eye to nothing in particular, still on her knees.  
“Sothis’ heavens.” the voice uttered, eyes rolling around the room like dice in a gambling game.  
“No, it’s Manuela, remember?” Manuela replied laughing at her own joke in a graceful close-eyed chuckle. “But it’s a common mix-up, so I’ll let it slip this time.” she said as she booped Seteth nose. 

Goddess above, Seteth hadn’t changed at all. It looked heroic if it wasn’t unsettling.  
A bit like Enbarr, the historical and aesthetically pittoresque allure of the surface hid a tragic past. For both it wasn’t hard to guess what broke them. The war and its apex.  
His eyes, while still as young as ever, now hid behind a pair of glasses, making Seteth’s eyes like a legend on a stained-glass window. Manuela examined his eyes more to find out the moral of the story portrayed before she shook out of the most concentration she had in a few years.

“I’m sorry. For the...nose and...I’m sorry for your loss.” she said with a grave voice. She stood up and wiped the dust off of her coat. She didn’t remember if she said it when resigning all those years ago, but she figured if she didn’t, she had to do it now.

“Miss Casagranda, what are you doing here?” Seteth said, with a sigh in his voice that cast a mist over his usual stern qualities.  
Manuela felt a weird pity come over her. Still, Seteth required no pity, as his piercing stern still laid at the core of his statement, and Manuela came here for a reason.

“I’m..wondering..” Manuela breathed in to gain control of her emotions. “if I could have a job here at Garreg Mach. Again. Don’t worry, I’m not here to become the new archbishop. I just..” she sighed. “need a roof over my head.”

Seteth breathed out through his nose in a prolonged sigh and nodded. “Well, I’m sorry to say that the Officer’s Academy doesn’t have any vacancies.”  
Manuela groaned like a middle school girl. “That vampire prick is still around? Typical von Essar.” she complained.  
“Hanneman is indeed still at Garreg Mach as our senior researcher, but is no longer a full-time teacher. The Officer’s Academy is in the capable hands of” Seteth said before Manuela interrupted him.  
“Dominic and von Hevring….”. The puzzle fell into place. The wave, the green-clad man. “Senior researcher huh? Well...would be weird if he was junior researcher I guess.” Manuela reeled. Going from dead to alive in a minute or two is a big feat, even for Hanneman.  
“Correct! And well, Hanneman is senior researcher, since Lysithea is junior researcher.” Seteth explained to her.  
“She must hate that title.” Manuela’s laugh coursed through the statement like a river through the hills, remembering that talking down on Lysithea was never a good idea.  
Seteth smiled and exhaled through his nose in a sly laugh. “It’s not her ideal epithet, no.”  
Manuela laughed out loud, exhaling some words through the laughter. “And really? Von Hevring as a teacher? What does he teach, the inside of his eyes?”  
Seteth smile grew from ear to ear now, erupting in a hearty laugh. The lack of wrinkles seemed to suggest it was the first laugh he had in ages. “Ah well, Dominic keeps him in shape. It would be dull around there if your successors didn’t take after you and von Essar’s dynamic. They’re a good team.”

Successor. Right. Of course. Manuela smiled politely and took her purse. “Right, I guess I will be going then.”  
Seteth’s face reverted to the stern position it used to be in. “Right.” he said as he seemed lost in thought. “Unless...I do...have one job for you.” he said as he walked out of the door, signalling Manuela to follow him.

They entered his office, which looked like a battlefield in its own right. The prim and proper had made place for a more homely environment, with papers on official business being littered in the same place as fiction and colored pencils and the bookshelves removed to make more space and revealing thick grey walls, not unlike a prison cell. 

“Please, have a seat.” Seteth looked around to find a chair, but couldn’t find one. He sighed. “Right. I’m not used to visits.”  
Manuela briskly made her way to the desk, took a pile of papers and gently placed it on the floor. She then made her way onto the desk and folded her legs, making herself a seat.  
Seteth blinked, hardly surprised by the hands-on solution of his old colleague, and took his seat behind the desk, shoving it backwards as to look at his conversation partner in a more proper manner.

The mess gave it away. Seteth needed help. Manuela waited politely, but felt vindicated by Seteth’s homeliness when looking around the room.

“So, what enticing offer do you have for me today?” Manuela broke the silence, dangling her feet over the desk in a playful pose.  
Her playfulness was not rewarded with light banter. Seteth sighed like a rolling thunder, as if trying to blow away the mists and fogs of his presence.  
“Manuela, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t been feeling well lately. Even that is quite the understatement. Guiding the new archbishop takes up most of my time, and while I have successfully transferred most of my duties pertaining to the Officer’s Academy, I have forsaken my most important duty. Flayn….Flayn has taken the recent events even harder than I have. She’s been growing, but I’m afraid her fear has put a dark cloud over her sunny demeanor. I want you to look after her when I can’t. I trust you and I want nothing but the best for my... sister. I ask you not to break that trust.”

Manuela nodded. She remembered Flayn asking about the shadows of the spotlight and the poor child had seen more shadows than what’s good for a child. “I’d be honored to, Seteth. Do you happen to know where she is?”

“Audience chamber, down the hall. And please, I am not asking you to raise her. Flayn is a special child and I don’t want your frivolous urges to influence her. I simply want you not to lose her. Don’t be reckless. Flayn is strong, but not as strong as you think.” Seteth stood up so that he had the height advantage over the seated Manuela. “Think you can handle that?” Manuela insists she saw a playful glint in his eyes at that moment and let out a little sigh of relief.

Manuela closed the door of the office and smiled at Seteth. “I won’t let you down.”

“Manuela.”

“Yes?”

“Please tell me if you see the archbishop around? I haven’t been able to find him.”

Manuela signed off with a salute and a wink, leaving for her mission.

*

The walk to the audience chamber wasn’t long, with the office she just left being on the same floor.  
When walking into the audience chamber ten years ago, you would stand eye-to-eye with Rhea. Now, her presence still looms, even though she physically disappeared off the earth. The room was empty. Artworks on the wall tell the story of the war and the tale of Byleth and the goddess at his side. 

Manuela said a prayer. The goddess had marvelously guided her life up to this point, and she only hoped Flayn had that guidance as well. She looked around the corner. There she was, looking at the art of Rhea, portrayed in the serenity she always had. Manuela always found it excruciating how her last memory was that of a beast rampaging around the earth. She might not have been human, but Manuela still felt a connection to her as a role model. Humanity is hard to navigate, and it’s nice to be able to look up and escape it sometimes.

“Hello Flayn.” She sat down next to her. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”  
“She really is. I hope to be as pretty as she was when I’m all grown up.” Flayn smiled.  
“I’m sure you will be sweetie.” Manuela said as she tried to hug Flayn. Flayn didn’t budge. “Anything you want to do today?” she asked. 

“No thanks.” Flayn kept staring at the portraits around the annex.  
“No homework to do today?” Manuela asked concerned.  
“I can do homework here.” Flayn heaved herself against the wall again, solidifying her position in that specific corner of Garreg Mach.

“Do you want me to help with your homework?” Manuela looked at the portraits hanging around. As much as she wanted Flayn to be comfortable, she couldn’t let her sit in this corner of the world forever. She had to get out.  
“I’m already done.” Flayn took a piece of fish from her pocket and started nibbling. 

“Well, we do have a bit of a problem then.” Manuela looked at the main hall of the audience chamber, looking for eavesdroppers of her impending secret.  
Flayn looked at her in confusion.  
“You see, I promised your brother to go look for Byleth, but I also promised him to look after you.” Manuela stood up and held out her hand. “What do you say? A little adventure will do you good.”

Flayn stood up as well. “Very well. Let’s ask around. Who should we ask first?”  
Manuela struck a pose. “Eeeveryoooone!” she sung. “Do you happen to know who’s around? It’s been a while since I’ve been here and I want to catch up with my old friends.” Manuela’s excitement was real in that moment, though exciting Flayn for these mundane errands helped her acting kick it up a notch.

Flayn’s eyes showed a small sparkle, although covered in fog similar to her brother’s. “Then let me show you around. Garreg Mach has changed a lot, but there’s a familiarity to it once you look hard enough.” she said as they left the audience chamber. Flayn had turned into the excited tour guide of what was her home.

They passed by Seteth’s office, who was slowly working through his paperwork. His world had gotten smaller, Manuela thought to herself. She took a peek into her own old office, before being reprimanded by Flayn. “No peeking! You’ll spoil the surprise!”  
Manuela widened her eyes in surprise due to Flayn’s sudden command, but followed her anyway. The hallway was as confusing as ever, but Flayn seemed to actually have remembered the layout as they arrived at their destination.  
“Captain’s quarters!” she pumped her fist. “If anyone knows where the archbishop is, it should be the Captain.”

Manuela approached the door and hesitated to knock, looking at Flayn for permission, which she gave.

The captain opened the door.

“Haha, if it isn’t Manuela Casagranda!” a thunderous voice echoed through the halls.  
“Hey there Captain, how’s the wife?” Manuela teased. She knew how to make small talk from her days in the opera, but a conversation with her old colleague was always something special. Even after all these years, they instantly hit off the right vibe.  
“Can’t complain, can’t complain. Bar trips aren’t the same without you, y’know? The knights of Seiros might be fearsome warriors, but the nights of Seiros are mostly team-building exercises.” Roaring laughter filled the room.  
“The nights of Seiros.” Manuela snickered. “At least you haven’t changed Alois. Have you seen Byleth around somewhere? Me and li’l Flayn here have a job to do.”  
Alois scratched his head. “No, I believe Byleft yesterday and I haven’t seen him since. Didn’t say where he went either, but he was never the talker, so…Maybe Mercie knows where he is. To be honest, I’m not so great on the eyes-and-ears thing, but when it comes to finding people, I’m sure she’s all ears!”  
Manuela smiled and looked at Flayn, waiting for instructions, but Alois continued.

“Besides, I’ve been busy tracking down the Death Knight. Rumour has it he survived the battle at Enbarr.” 

Oh.

Oh.

Manuela turned around to ask Flayn if this was the reason she’s feeling down, but before she could ask, Flayn already walked away. Manuela briskly walked behind Flayn, looking behind her to wave her old friend goodbye. 

Flayn walked into the infirmary. Manuela followed her when it clicked. Mercie was their new physician. She always displayed a talent for healing and she seemed to have manners even Manuela couldn’t quite grasp, such as office hours before noon.

“Oh, Mercie isn’t here either.” Flayn said as she looked at the new interior designing Manuela did.  
“I’m sure she’s busy. I know this job, you don’t see the infirmary often. It’s mostly just walking around.” Manuela soothed Flayn with the simple and clean reality. “I bet we can find Mercie too.” Manuela walked into Hanneman’s office. The brown-haired lady looked at the duo that barged into her study.

“Hey Manuela! Hey Flayn! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Lysithea closed the crest displayer, displaying the crest of Lamine.  
“It has, I see time has been kind to you. New hair color?” Manuela didn’t know that Lysithea’s new hair had been a victory of life and death, but she’s suspected some things as the Golden Deer’s teacher. Lysithea was one of the last to join Byleth’s class, so she picked up on some clues throughout the year. Hopefully her tease managed to walk the tightrope of respectful and casual.  
“It sure is! And time is showing mercy on you as well. No silver hairs to be found on you, either.” Lysithea had no doubt learned more than Crestology from Hanneman, since she mastered the art of the crooked compliment. Manuela smiled and took the hit in grace. 

“Have you seen Mercedes somewhere?” Flayn asked.  
“I saw her today, yeah. She comes in and out, Seiros knows where she goes.” While Lysithea’s ambition no longer was a matter of life and death, she still had an unwavering dedication to her goals...and little care for anything outside of that.  
“And what about the….” Flayn whispered. “The reaper.”  
“Oh yeah, everyone’s talking about it.” Lysithea’s tone implied that it was not her business. “I’m doing what I can to track him down, but the reader doesn’t give me any results yet.” She reopened the crest display and showed the Crest of Lamine in a purple hue.

“Oh my.” Lysithea gasped, examining the reading.  
Flayn froze in place. Manuela instinctively took a step forward to protect her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.  
“The power level the reader demonstrates here is larger unusually big. Mercedes only has a minor crest, but the reader picks up the crest with exactly twice the amplification of a usual minor crest.” Lysithea pointed out the gradient of the purple meaning an increased concentration of Lamine’s crest.  
Manuela looked at the aura displayed. “There’s two of ‘em.” she deduced.  
“Exactly. But here’s the kicker. The reader is quite robust. It doesn’t pick up two seperate crests spread throughout Garreg Mach, I’ve tested this with Catherine and my own Crest. The only way it does this, is when the two crests are in extreme vicinity of each other.” Lysithea explained, looking at Manuela and waiting for her to finish her thought.  
“Mercedes and the Death Knight are in the same room.” Manuela interrupted her in a soft voice.  
Flayn tried to keep her head high like the adults in the room, but couldn’t help but whimper. “You think she’s kidnapped?”  
Lysithea closed the reader. “The crests don’t lie.” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. The time she has been graced with hasn’t gone towards learning manners.

“Can you see where they are?” Manuela asked.  
Lysithea shrugged. “Sorry, all this reader tells me is they’re cooped up together and I can’t tell you much more than my reader tells me. If you want to know more about nooks and crannies, ask Linhardt. Pretty sure he’s found every napping spot in this complex.” 

Flayn gasped once more. Manuela’s eyes shined, but quickly dulled once she realised what the slumbering princess was referring to.  
“Do you think..that…” she started, hoping that Flayn would bring up her suspicion on her own.  
“Yes.” Flayn nodded solemnly. “They’re in the catacombs.”  
Flayn fell silent for a bit.  
“We have to go.” she decided, her voice sounding more mature, but the compassion at the core of her voice still remained as steadfast as ever. Manuela could only answer with a nod. If this is what Flayn wants, she isn’t there to stop her. Sure, Seteth said not to raise her, but she suspected it was Seteth’s….protective upbringing of Flayn that made her so isolated in the first place.  
Manuela thus walked ahead of Flayn through the halls this time, though Flayn quickly caught up as they descended stair after stair. 

“Manuela?” Flayn asked once they were headed to the knight’s hall.  
“Yes, darling?” Manuela said in a sweet voice. She could feel the tension in Flayn’s body and see the sadness in her face. It was less of a tired sadness like she saw in Seteth. Flayn was nervous to go in the catacombs and she couldn’t blame her. Still, she also saw a glee in Flayn’s eyes, and Manuela wasn’t against a rendevouz with the Death Knight either. 

Her wounds don’t hurt. Flayn’s do.

“Did you encounter any more shadows. After the war, I mean? I was always fascinated by the balance of light dark ever since our conversation on the matter.” Flayn explained in a calm voice, her cadence streaming over the bedding of the river’s flow.  
Manuela sucked her teeth. She did say something on that matter before the war, yes, and shared it with Flayn. It had become a bit of a mantra. If the lights are bright, the shadows are dark. It summed up her time at the opera well, and in the life after it was a way for her to rationalise her low-key teacher life. In the war, however, she saw too many shadows to believe in balance. 

“You’re worried about the lighting in the catacombs?” she smiled. She didn’t want to crack a joke, but it might’ve been the best way to keep the metaphor going, since it seemed to interest Flayn.

Flayn smiled as well. “I suppose so, yes. My father speaks of many creatures that dwell only where the light doesn’t go.”

Manuela bit her tongue. She didn’t want to go against Seteth’s doctrines, but Flayn was a bright young woman, and the world would miss out on her if she were to be hidden away.  
“Of course sweetie, the world can be cruel, but we cannot hide the light for those stuck in the shadows. Everyone deserves a shot at the spotlight. And you’re such a bright girl, your light shines where you go. I’ll shine with you and I’ll vow to protect you from the shadows your light doesn’t reach.”  
She decided to give advice. Seteth was verbose enough to launch a speech with counter-rhetoric if Manuela’s advice would get her in danger.  
Flayn thanked her. “I vow to shine my light.” she assured herself before entering the catacombs of Garreg Mach.

Manuela looked around the entrance, before darting her eyes towards Flayn again. Randomly brushing down her own thigh, she felt the dagger. Good. Sometimes the shadows don’t take well to light. And sometimes the light had a score to settle with the dark. 

Manuela breathed as soft as possible, inhaling through her nose. “They’re here.” Manuela established. Flayn turned around. “Are you sure?”  
Manuela breathed in again. “Definitely. I smell medicine here, infirmary brand. I’m the only one that stole a flask, so it must be Mercie leaving this trail.”

Flayn slowly but surely stepped forward, determination in each step. “So she’s alive.” she asserted. “Dead people leave a different smell.”  
Manuela sighed. While Flayn’s conclusion was correct, it was disheartening that the little girl knew the smell of death.

They were almost there. Manuela heard voices, and as the interior became more familiar she figured this was the spot Flayn woke up. Flayn, in her turn, started breathing more heavily, but was motivated by the mission to stay on course.  
The voices laughed, cried and screamed in cycles, a true cacophony. If evil was in play here, it would be winning. Flayn charged her magic, urging Manuela to do the same. 

Flayn looked at Manuela and they squeezed each others hands, as they opened the door, magic in hand, illuminating the room.

A head turned around, staring right at the pair.

*

“Go fish” a deep voice said.  
“...”  
Byleth handed over a card to the blonde man with the red mask. “Ah, fuck.” 

Flayn and Manuela looked at each other with a side-eye before slowly moving towards their target.  
“I like fish.” Flayn waved slyly at the man in the red mask. “Hello archbishop.” she added, nodding at Byleth who responded with a nod of his own. 

Manuela greeted the gang as well. “Jeritza...” she said in a solemn voice. Jeritza held his head down.  
“How’s the scar?” He laid down a card with one hand while gesturing over his stomach with his other hand. Byleth handed over another card. Manuela gave a thumbs up and rolled her eyes. It’s been quite a few years since she’d been stabbed by the Death Knight. The wounds had healed by now, being replaced by a nice pair of wrinkles that match the rest of her body.

Despite being in the catacombs, it was quite the lighthearted picture. The two kept handing over cards during the silence that followed. 

“So.” Jeritza pulled a card from the deck, looking at Manuela.  
“So.” Manuela crossed her arms and looked around the catacombs.  
“You’re back.” Jeritza took a swig from a flask next to him.  
Byleth waved at Flayn, seemingly acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation.

“It appears I’m not the only one.” Manuela huffed. She quite enjoyed the conversation she had with him all those years ago.”How dare you cheat death? How could you?” Manuela started off with a tear in her voice, before calming down and giving her tone a curious twist. “No really, how did you do it?”  
“Don’t we all?” Jeritza responded in his usual mysterious demeanor, pulling a card from the deck. “Go fish.”  
Byleth gave him a card.  
“We take a truth and fool ourselves, hoping that fate substitutes the truth for our lie as well. It’s how we all travel through time’s flow. You have to travel fast, before the light thaws the path ahead….”

Manuela gasped for air after hearing such a theatrical monologue, before quickly figuring out the puzzle. “It was someone else in the reaper suit, wasn’t it?” Her tone, suddenly flat and unimpressed, diluted the erudite conversation, Jeritza replying with a simple finger gun, before handing a card to Byleth and continuing their game of Go-fish.

Flayn was not so impressed by the casual tone of the conversation as she pieced together the truth and slowly took Manuela’s dagger from her thigh. “Death Knight….” she said in a grave voice, revealing the knife in her hand. “Stay back....” she whispered to Manuela, who held her hand in front of her as to protect her from herself.  
Flayn aimed her gaze at Jeritza. “You killed a man to save yourself…” The knife trembled in her hand. “You took the balance of light and shadow and wielded it for your petty make-believe…..” She regained grip over the dagger, clenching it in her fist like a child holding crayon. “Edelgard thought she could wield it and lost the war...but you….you thought you could play with it and you will lose everything. Edelgard believed in balance. You believed in *darkness*. 

But you know what Jeritza? Darkness is empty. Darkness is absence. Darkness doesn’t thrive. Darkness doesn’t live. Light does. And where the shadows are the darkest, the lights shine the brightest too.” She unfurled her fingers around the dagger. Manuela held her hand, trying to release the dagger from Flayn’s weakening grasp.

“If you had light in you I would’ve taken it from your eyes.” Flayn put away the knife. “Know that you merely pretended to be the harbinger of death. Let’s hope the real reaper fulfills her duty with a less careless attitude.” Flayn slid the knife back to the holster, slowly slipping out of her calm and celestial attitude and creeping into her worldly form with heavy, darting breaths. “Sadly, it seems the light I propagate is not in my grasp either. We might not be so different after all.”

”Darkness blinds.” a voice said from the shadows. It matched Flayn’s overt sweetness, although like the saint’s, it carried bitterness in it. It was Mercedes.  
“We cannot control the darkness, darling.” Manuela added. “You mustn't be so hard on him, or on yourself.”  
“Shadows are a powerful force, who can we blame if we lose the battle?” Mercedes assured her. “And Jeritza is not all shadows either, and I’m not all light. We all have battles.” Mercedes sat down with her brother. “Spade four please.” She took the cards out of her pocket and gestured to Flayn and Manuela to come play.  
Flayn reluctantly accepted the invitation and received her cards. “Sorry for the knife.” she said, immediately following up her apology with handing a card the archbishop asked for.  
Jeritza accepted her apology, letting out a low-toned hum. “Go fish.” He put a card on the pile.  
Manuela put down a card as well. “Does anyone know how to play this?” she asked without looking up from her cards.  
The gang shook their heads in unison. “Go fish.” they said simultaneously.  
“I bet we will learn.” Flayn said with an upbeat attitude.

They all cheered, ready to take on this new adventure.

“Go fish.” Manuela said at the game’s end, triumphantly slamming her final card on the deck. Byleth stood up to leave.  
“Oh yeah, Seteth was asking for you, Mr. Eisner.” Manuela said, stacking the cards for another round.  
“I figured they’d be looking for me.” Jeritza uttered, shrugging his shoulders at what he thought was his impending execution.  
Manuela’s eyes almost shot to the back of her head in confusion, as Byleth showed the ring. 

Manuela couldn’t believe her eyes. “I cannot believe you would throw away the sanctity of marriage like that…..” Mercedes was ready to throw hands, but lucky for her, Manuela finished her sentence and soothed her. “How dare you not invite me? I knew we hit a rough patch, after, you know, you stabbed me. All water under the bridge, by the way. And now you don’t even invite me? What was the wedding theme? Backstabbing friends?”

“Roses” Jeritza said in his usual demeanor.  
“That’s nice, I suppose.” Manuela looked at her nails in a passive-aggressive attitude.

“It was….and I am glad to hear the knights are not looking for me, yet.” Jeritza breathed in to relieve this brief bout of stress.  
Manuela pursed her lips.  
“How did you find us even, Manuela?’ Mercedes asked in a sweet but pressing tone. Flayn fondled with her fingers and whistled a tune. Manuela started humming along.  
“Manuela?” Mercedes kept pressing, pushing her hands together in a begging gesture.  
‘Ho-o-rsebow moo-ooon, weee kiinda toold Lysiiitheeeeeaaa” she sang under her breath.  
“Aaand went by Aloiiiseee’s” Flayn continued the tune off-key.  
“No worries, Mercedes….they cannot reach the catacombs if the doors are closed.”  
“You’re right Emile, they probably closed the doors.” Mercedes calmed herself and sat down.

Manuela breathed in. “Welll, it was kind of daaaark?” She made a wishy-washy gesture with her hand.  
Mercedes buried her head in her hands in embarrassment. “Look, I’m sure being the husband of the archbishop is gonna count for something, but there’s no guarantees for war criminals of the Empire and their accomplices.”

For the next moments, any rumble had the group look up, exchanging assuring looks with each other, but they knew time was up.

The knights entered. Alois’ hearty laugh rumbled through the room, giving it a much more sinister tone. He wasn’t a co-worker now, but a cog in the system. Justice would be served, but it would be the justice as the Church sees fit. The goddess would rule, and her opinion would suspiciously coincide with Garreg Mach’s. 

Seteth walked through the gate as well, running towards Flayn. Manuela backed off and let her own execution come to her later, but was summoned by Seteth before she had the chance. 

*  
With everyone out of the catacombs, Seteth pulled Manuela aside and gave her a cold stare. “What did I say?” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. Manuela felt the coming outburst was understandable, but she wouldn’t budge. Seteth is overprotective and that stunts children’s growth.  
“Don’t be reckless?” Manuela raised her tone. Taking calculated risks was far from reckless to her, but of course any risk was reckless to Seteth.  
Seteth picked up on her teasing and made his anger overt, rightout glaring at Manuela and showing his teeth. His tone didn’t change, showing he was still in control of his emotions. “Flayn is the most important person in my life. I have no time to babysit you when you look after her. Flayn needs protection, not a nanny who brings her straight to the lion’s den.” Seteth scoffed. He knew Manuela wasn’t the most responsible, but he thought he could trust her not to bring her to an Imperial General. 

Manuela gritted her teeth for retaliation.  
“That girl doesn’t need protection, she needs a parent. Garreg Mach’s walls cannot talk to her, teach her or let her blossom. The young lady needs guidance, she wants to see the world. She needs to see the world. The world needs to see her. And that world doesn’t end at the fishing pond.” Manuela felt sorry for the girl that had to grow up without a role model. She remembered how Flayn asked about the opera, or rather what an opera was. She needed memories other than the stained glass and statues of saints. She needed people.

“Her world could’ve ended if Jeritza were to snap. This isn’t paranoia, it’s precedence. May I remind you that this was the man who *kidnapped* her for her *blood*? The world is the Church, there is plenty she can learn in the library.” Seteth bit his tongue when he wanted to say who her family was. That she had seen enough of the world in the hundreds of years they needlessly roamed it. That she had to shoulder the light of the world.

“Give the girl a fish and she eats for a day. Give her a fishing pole and she learns to fend for herself. Please Seteth, it’s time to give me your pole. Let me teach her how the world works, shadows included.” Manuela sighed. She knew she couldn’t persuade Seteth. The love he had for her was too strong to let her grow. 

“She knows how the world works.” Seteth decided. “She has seen enough. She has seen reapers, she has seen the battlefield and she has seen *war*. She has seen her family die in front of her eyes.” Seteth raised his voice in a mighty crescendo. “If she gets to be an innocent girl after all that, she deserves that blessing and she deserves the last family she has left.” Seteth’s voice calmed down again, like the sun arcing into the waves. “You are not part of that family.”  
“Seteth…” Manuela’s voice faded like the waves in which the sunset sank.  
“Go out in the world you love so dearly. Garreg Mach will live on. Enjoy your shadows, your spirits and your spectres. But please let Flayn live in the light.”

Manuela nodded.  
“I will.”

The two said goodbye with a simple wave, and Manuela returned to Enbarr.

*  
Manuela felt lost in Enbarr, the city that was once at her feet now felt like a maze with no end or beginning. The lifeblood of the city clotted with Empire loyalists. Everyone living in the same gutter, but their mind gently floating out of it. Manuela used to love the touchless friction of the city, the restless and harmonized bubbling of the underground. But she wondered, are the ideal stories even real? Don’t ideal stories get to be ideal? Why can’t ideal stories get to be sweeping fairytales, instead of gripping tales of hurricanes blowing open fettering wounds?

It didn’t help that the city showed its scars for everyone to see now. Misery no longer was a mystery, the boiling was no longer exclusive to the underground. The city had burned, but the fire couldn’t cleanse the roaches creeping around the city. 

Suffering was inflicted by neither man nor goddess. It simply was the wrapping paper of the chocolate box that was life. She didn’t blame Seteth for bubble-wrapping the gift of life, and letting Flayn play with the pops it made.

He was right. Life’s balance was unfair, but it was on him to spoil Flayn. It might be artificial, happiness created, but chandeliers burned just as bright as the sun. Seiros knows the darkness doesn’t play by rules, so why should love?  
Manuela decided to treat herself, to let her mind wander and bask in self-indulgent spotlights. She entered the church. It was quiet, silent even.  
The quiet life wasn’t for her, but who was she to take it away from those who need it? Trying to hide from the world, there was no place better than a church.

She closed her eyes and prayed, drowning out the city’s flutters with her thoughts and wishes. She smiled. There’s quite a lot your heart can say when your mind is clear.  
She looked around the church and looked at the sky-high windows, light pouring in by spades. Manuela sighed in relief, but it was guttural, bitter in tone. She survived long in this world with nothing but her voice, her smarts and a pair of huge boons in the corporeal area, but that’s all it was. Survival. Elbowing her way through the crowd was the only way she ever got to enjoy the spotlight. Maybe Seteth was right. Maybe a life in the spotlight isn’t hard to achieve. Maybe the goddess provides it for everyone. Goddess knew she didn’t always deserve it if she picked and chose based on merit. 

Manuela went to the best inn she knew that she could afford. Small and sweet, she rated it three stars. After being handed the key and met by a vague glance of recognition. (Weren’t you the one who took three stars upstairs with you?), she entered her new home. It was a new sensation for Manuela to be living in a relatively clean room, but it had to suffice; She didn’t feel entitled to making this place her own. The lights were harsh and the small eggshell-white walls morphed the sunshine into splotches of grey. A bed and one nightstand completed the interior. If this was purgatory, she wouldn’t be surprised.

“Home sweet home?” Manuela put down her bag and laid down on the bed.  
And so she spent the night, her claw firmly perched into the periphery of Enbarr, but too tired to climb again. She wanted to rest.

When she woke up, light was pouring through the window. It was calm, it was nice. Manuela slowly woke up and went downstairs for breakfast. The white of her room extended to the whole hotel, bricks painted white with only the occasional plant breaking the monotony. Even the breakfast consisted of blinding white eggs on a white plate. Manuela looked outside. This part of Enbarr was surprisingly quiet. The busy markets made place for green pastures and the grotesque fountains straightened out in creeks. The only thing ruthless was nature, and even then it had the decency to hide it between the chirping of birds and a sweet breeze.

Manuela didn’t like it. She felt her time floating out of the window and flowing away with the river. Manuela wasn’t the person to let her life be led by a breeze. She looked around. White walls, sturdy like a fortress, sure would be nice for those scared of what was on the outside of these walls. But Manuela wasn’t scared. Not of life, not of living. She was scared of time, so she was bent on fighting it by cramming as many experiences into a lifetime as possible. 

Jeritza was right. Manuela travelled fast, outrunning the thaw of the light. That’s why she liked basking in the shadows more. It proved her. It proved her strength. There is no need for the spotlight where the sun shines. She had nothing to prove in these white halls. Nothing to fight against, and thus nothing to fight for.  
No one to fight for. 

She left her eggs half-eaten and left with her belongings. “Thank you for the stay.” she said politely and left through the door.

*  
The city center of Enbarr was bustling with people. So many dreams in one place, so many stories. She looked at the bridal shop that was once her dream, where she was recognized for the first time since she left Garreg Mach.  
“Miss Casagranda?” a voice creeped up behind her. “Manuela!” another voice added enthusiastically in an echo.  
Manuela turned around and couldn’t believe her eyes. Barely a day in Enbarr and the first spectres have arrived. “Hi Flayn! How are ya!” Manuela asked, ignoring Seteth’s presence entirely.  
“I’d like to apologize, Miss Casagranda.” Seteth bowed his head in sincerity, trying to start a conversation but Manuela wasn’t in a sincere mood.  
“Wow, Flayn, your voice got really deep while I was gone.” Manuela didn’t acknowledge Seteth’s presence, nor his apology. She wasn’t part of the family.  
Flayn chuckled. Seteth cleared his throat.  
Manuela straightened her back and turned to Seteth. “I appreciate your apology Seteth. I have crossed a line as well, I shouldn’t have forced Flayn to cooperate in my antics. I know how much she means to you.” Manuela smiled and nodded, not having much more to say in this awkward conversation.  
“It’s fine.” Seteth reassured her. “Flayn won’t stop asking to go fish with Jeritza. Seems like your adventure has made an impression on everybody there.” Seteth pressed to hear Manuela’s explanation of the incident, but got no such clarity.  
“Well, we had fun, didn’t we?” Manuela reverted to talking exclusively to Flayn, who agreed with her statement.  
“She’s certainly happier for it. Perhaps I should learn to let her go a little bit.” Seteth made his concessions. “Let her live. Our youth truly is a beautiful time.” he beamed.

Manuela’s smile reached her eyes, and not just because she heard a slight hint of her being right in Seteth’s statements. She was genuinely proud of him and understood the big step he made. “She’ll always be your little girl, you just gotta make sure she grows up in the process.” she assured Seteth.  
“I’m afraid so, but I was hoping that duty wouldn’t befall to me.” Seteth revealed the purpose of the family trip and slyly nudged Flayn to let her in on it.  
“Spoken like a true father.” Manuela gave some generic advice. She knew what Seteth was hinting at, but didn’t want to set her hopes too high just yet. Multiple men in her past had let her known that she’d been to eager before.  
Seteth laughed and shook his head. “Flayn needs balance in her life, and my fear cannot provide that. Maybe your fearless attitude can tip the scales in that regard?” Seteth hoped Manuela would get the hint this time.  
She did. “I’d love to. Flayn is a spectacular young lady and I’d be honored to share my spotlight with her.” she said as she patted Flayn’s head.  
“So what do you say? When are you ready to begin?” Seteth inquired.  
Manuela knew the moment was coming, but was still surprised when Seteth did indeed ask her back. “I got nothing holding me here.” she tried to act casually, but couldn’t hide her enthusiasm once she saw Flayn beaming in anticipation. “I’ll come back with you guys.” She invited Flayn for a hug, who greedily accepted. Not much later, Manuela pulled Seteth in as well. The three hugged in Enbarr’s streets for a good while, before loading their carriages for the way back to Garreg Mach.

*  
Back at the monastery, everything seemed brighter in Manuela’s second grand return. The crumbling pillars seemed smooth and shiny in the sunlight. Her limelight wasn’t fading, but shined ever brighter with Flayn next to her. She didn’t feel like a ghost anymore. How can anyone feel like a ghost at their own home? She waved at the faces in the crowds and sighed wistfully when she was back on the second floor, where she was welcomed by Garreg Mach’s staff, and the archbishop himself.  
Manuela teared up. This was the best crowd she’s ever had. Real people that loved her, and she didn’t have to fight for. She just had to be herself. That validation felt better than any role she played. 

Once the crowd settled down and Manuela settled down in the old war council room, Seteth stood in the doorway.  
“Please, come in. Have a seat.” Manuela graciously let him in, before realizing that she barely unpacked and there was no chair yet.  
Seteth chuckled. “No worries, someone told me a handy trick.” He took an old desk and sat on it. Manuela snorted in Seteth’s sudden playfulness and did the same, seating herself across from him.  
“Can’t believe I never got to give you a proper ‘Welcome back’. I owed you that one at least. Garreg Mach is your home, and I want to apologize for lashing out to you and denying you that home earlier. You belong here.” Seteth handed over a bottle of liquor across the gap the opposite tables left, which Manuela graciously accepted by stretching her arm as far as possible.  
“Thank you. That means more than you can imagine right now. It’s good to have a home.” Manuela took a set of glasses from her purse. Seteth did not respond to the packing priorities of Miss Casagranda, but merely accepted the poured glass of scotch handed to him and took a sip.

“Flayn absolutely adores you. She got that from her father, I suppose.” Seteth realised too late what he said, and looked at his glass as if he could blame his confession on an astronomically low alcohol tolerance.  
Manuela let it slide, though her face did betray her glee in that moment. “I really missed Flayn. She’s a lovely kid. She’s curious, headstrong and so full of joy. Her father did a great job.” Manuela swallowed some more scotch and cleared her throat. “I suppose comparing her to Rhea is off-limits. But she really does remind me of her. She has her serenity and her willpower.”  
Seteth nodded. “Thank you. It was hard, losing her. The truth is, I didn’t just want to find a new nanny. Rhea left a hole bigger than I ever had to take in my lifetime, but it’s unfair to expect you to replace her. It’s unfair to change you. Goddess knows the world needs Rhea, but the world also needs Miss Casagranda.”

“Because you adore me.” She couldn’t help sticking it to him.  
Seteth once more contemplated blaming the alcohol, but he was in a sincere mood today. “Right.” 

Manuela poured another glass. “Well, if you want me to fill a hole, I’m ready.” she said without a care in the world, perhaps the scene of drinking with a man feeling familiar to the pattern-minded part of her brain.  
“I don’t think that’s in your job description, Miss Casagranda.” Seteth was put off balance by the twist in the conversation, but played along nicely by pouring a heartful holler over his usual sternness.  
“Then I should renegotiate my contract.” Manuela raised her glass, subconsciously hoping to get away with the comment due to the casual nature of the conversation.  
“Maybe the girl does need a mother.” Seteth mused out loud.  
“Ah, forget about the girl. What do you need?” Manuela scoffed. “If you trust me to influence Flayn, you must trust her enough to land on her feet. So what do you want to do with your time on earth?” 

“To be honest, I haven’t thought of that. Where do we begin? I have too many duties now to start seizing the days for myself. Been pretty married to the Church right now.”  
“It’s never too late to seek a new path.” Manuela held out her hand towards Seteth, who gave it a quick squeeze. “I’m sure the world will be ready for your fairytale to start.”  
“Perhaps. Until then, I have messes to clean up first, and I get the feeling you’ll have a hand in them.” Seteth raised his glass. “To new beginnings.”

Manuela raised her glass. “To new beginnings.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading! Ultra Rarepair 2020 is so amazing for letting me do this and me and my art partner had such a grand ol’ time with this.
> 
> If you want more Manuela/Seteth you can read the sequel to this fic right here!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253517
> 
> It’s called Tomorrow Is This Morning Again and describes what happens few years after the fateful re-meeting! Be sure to check out the other Ultra Rarepair Big Bang fics too, people really pulled out the stops for this one and it’s so amazing to see.
> 
> Thanks again SO MUCH for reading and hopefully I see you in the comments!


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